Fool Me Twice
by TheLawya
Summary: A deeper look into Alex and Piper's first foray into the Chapel. Rated "M" for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. Please don't republish without asking. A continuation of the final scene of "F*cksgiving", and primarily an exercise in smut. Most certainly rated "M". Enjoy.

**Fool Me Twice**

**By ****TheLawya**

**Chapter 1**

Twice, Piper had invited the whirlwind of Alex Vause to lift up her life and spin it around like a trailer flung through the air by a Midwestern tornado. And twice, it had started with a kiss.

"Two kisses," thought Piper to herself, two very different kisses with eerily similar results, a decade apart. She understood the lesson she _should _take away from this. If she wanted her life to settle – if she wanted to pick up the shattered pieces of the normalcy that she simultaneously craved and loathed – if she wanted a life without tornados – she was simply going to need to keep her lips to herself.

The first time, a confident and older Alex had seduced her, and there could be no mistaking who was predator and who was prey. Alex was tall, and dark, and dangerous. She was sophisticated. She had money and power and friends who politely spoke to Piper from behind dark sunglasses that didn't quite hide their disdain. She was the opposite of the whitewashed Connecticut life that Piper wanted so desperately to avoid returning to, fresh off the eager freedom of Smith College. And so when she wrapped her fingers in Piper's hair that night, when she pressed her tongue between Piper's lip as they stood at the front door of her apartment building, and her hand between Piper's thighs as they stood at the kitchen counter inside, Alex was a force of nature. She would not be denied this beautiful blonde 22-year-old. She would have this would-be waitress, with her concocted resume and her porcelain skin, and have her she did. Alex possessed her. She lifted Piper from her foundation and spun her a hundred feet in the air, whisking her off to locations too beautiful to describe, showering her with gifts and excitement and the thrill of forbidden sex.

The second time, Piper's innocence was a long-forgotten memory. An adult on the cusp of the most routine of lives, she had been uprooted from her carefully constructed WASP's nest and deposited, with as much fanfare as possible, in a Federal women's correctional facility, only to find herself facing the very tornado she thought she had escaped a decade ago. But this time, she thought things were different. She was so sure she knew what she was facing. She wasn't some nervous farmer's daughter staring down a big mean storm – she was a storm chaser, equipped and prepared to handle the very force that had taken her down so long before. She could contain this. She was sure of it. She was a grown woman. She would not be swept away again. But this kiss – this second first kiss – a kiss only experienced by those who have been separated by complex and lengthy circumstances and rejoined by miracles or fate – well, it nearly made her fucking head explode.

Piper had never felt, ever, the particular combination of anger, fear and lust that led her to take Alex's hand and pull her into the chapel. She had desired this woman before, oh yes. She had spent years desiring her, years where Alex's mouth and fingers had dictated much more of her life than she cared to now admit. But this – this all-consuming hotness, this fury and fear and, and this want, no, this NEED to be taken, this was new.

Piper pulled Alex to her, wrapping her fingers in thick black hair, and pressed her tongue against lips that yielded immediately. She pressed into Alex's mouth, a groan escaping from the back of her throat. That feeling, at least, was exactly how she remembered. Her anger was still there, thrumming through the back of her mind. And fear was there, too. Her time in the SHU, the desperation for human touch borne of that isolation and fear muddled together with the darkening desire, the memory of which she had secretly savored for all these years. Fumbling hands pulled Alex's shirt off, and Piper's fingers struggled with Alex's bra before Alex stopped her.

"Wait." A hushed command. Piper, furious, glared up at her, her hands paused halfway through lifting her own shirt over her head. She had no intention of waiting. She needed to feel Alex's breasts pressed against her. Alex smiled despite herself, the heat of the moment almost broken by Piper's glare, and pointed to the closet behind the rear pews.

"In there," she whispered," unless you want Mendez to come in here and find your legs wrapped around my neck." Piper's breath caught in her throat at the thought of Alex's soft mouth against her body, and she allowed Alex to take her hand and lead her into a storage space roughly the size of one of the prison's shower stalls. Alex closed the door behind them, and the silence enveloped them.

Now, with a moment to think, Piper's fear overtook her. Her anger wavered, and she looked up at Alex, who stood only inches from her.

"Maybe we shouldn't…" she started, nervously squinting through the dim light leaking in under the closet door over Alex's shoulder.

"Maybe?" Alex intoned, her voice dangerously husky. "Is that what you think?" Piper swallowed. Her recent bravado had all but dissipated, and her voice shook as she reconsidered the swirling emotions that had led her to Alex's lips a second time. What had she been thinking? This woman was not a project. She was not an experiment. She was not a thing to be observed or toyed with. She was a tall, dark storm. She was a destroyer of towns, of lives. She was _dangerous_. She was…

"Piper." Alex breathed into her ear, her hands sliding down to cup Piper's ass through her cotton pants. "I understand that you're afraid." Piper felt her heart hammer against her chest. How on EARTH had she just landed herself in this tiny, cramped closet with this woman? How had she been so weak? So unprepared? This was the person responsible for the chaos that had enveloped her life! But…

"But you…you kissed me this time. Remember?" Alex's voice sent chills down her spine, and she looked up into eyes that burned through her.

"I…" started Piper, beginning to panic.

"You kissed me, Piper. Because you want me." Piper involuntarily arched her back as Alex reached behind her to unclasp her bra. "You want me. And I'm going to give you what you want. What we both need." The palms of her hands stroked down Pipers back, soothing. Piper's breath was ragged. She wanted to run. Alex bent down to press warm lips to the side of Piper's neck, just below her ear. Her tongue slid down smooth skin. Long fingers brushed around Piper's hips, snaked up her torso, stopped at her ribs. Alex's thumbs stroked softly just below her breasts, she felt the ribcage beneath her hands expand quickly with each sharp intake of breath. Piper's panic had given way to pure arousal, but her nervousness lingered. She remembered all too well the way this woman could make her feel. The husky voice in her ear, "I'm going to make you come, Piper." Piper felt a sudden jolt between her legs, and dampness began to spread. She stuttered a response, a brave few words of protest.

"I won't make the same mistake with you again…I can't…"

"I'm going to make you come, because you want me to. Because we both need it. I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to come for me. So stop fighting it. Piper…we need this. You need this."

The fight drained out of Piper. The last vestiges of resistance were no match for this woman's voice murmuring in her ear, for those long fingers splayed around her abdomen. She sighed, and gave up. Her foundation cracked under the force of the familiar wind.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. Please don't republish without asking. A continuation of the final scene of "F*cksgiving", and primarily an exercise in smut. Most certainly rated "M". Enjoy.

**Fool Me Twice**

**By ****TheLawya**

**Chapter 2**

In prison, sex is therapeutic for reasons that make little sense to the uninitiated.

The routine of day-to-day existence is intolerable. Each moment is inflexibly structured. A prisoner's life is not hers to live anymore, at least not in any recognizable way. The inmate may throw herself into under-funded self-improvement programs, perhaps. She may study for her GED, or learn to type. In Litchfield she may undertake what are ostensibly the underpinnings of a trade – working as an electrician, or learning the basics of food service. But her days are not her own. The loss of the simplest freedoms is a slow burning torment, building over a series of months and years.

Prison forbids privacy in ways that only become apparent over time. Aside from the more obvious loss of personal space and the misery of shared toilets and bunks, there is no time for quiet contemplation, no opportunity to simply sit, alone, and think.

Prison is also forbidding of relationships, and even affection. As if to strip any vestiges of humanity from the woman who may spend a lifetime within its walls, prison tells the inmate that she is no longer entitled to this most basic human need: love. Certainly she may not have sex. And of course for most of the women in Litchfield, for most of the women incarcerated at similar institutions all over the country, relationships are forged against all of those formidable odds.

For some, the relationships are the deepest of friendships. Some take on familial roles, acting as parents or children to each other to fill voids left by relatives on the other side of the thick cinderblock walls, or perhaps by family members who were never there at all. But sex and sexual love inside of a women's prison is also very real. It is not based merely on power struggles, domination or turf. It is not a substitution for sex with men, at least not in the strictest sense. It is humanity. It is desperation for touch, for the human contact that is so intrinsic to our biology. It is comfort and affection and trust, and it is necessary for survival. It is necessary for sanity.

Alex and Piper were no different from the rest of the prisoners at Litchfield. Under the microscopic attention of CO's, they were scrutinized for physical contact, for rules violations, for disorganization. But they had a unique obstacle as well: Healy. Piper's counselor was a microcosm of everything that is wrong with the correctional system. Sure, he had undertaken his job for all the right reasons. He believed in helping people. He wanted to be a part of the rehabilitative process. But over time, his concerns mutated. Moral indignation chipped away at any notions about social justice. Anger at the betrayal of the female sex to comply with biology while incarcerated, disgust at the physical manifestation of that perversion: these were his obsessions. As far as Healy was concerned, Piper was the biggest problem he'd had in a long time.

Piper was different, there was no question. She was educated. Articulate. Blonde and WASPish, with the squared jaw and straight teeth that belie a childhood filled with good nutrition, expensive day care, and bright, sun-filled rooms. Healy's initial reaction to her was not concern, but relief. Thank goodness – a prisoner about whom he needn't worry. She wouldn't steal. She wouldn't fight. She wouldn't make wine in the toilet or tattoo her face to brand herself a felon. And she wouldn't, she couldn't…fuck women.

His rage at her betrayal was deeply personal. Never mind her initial protestations, she had admitted to him – and she had _attacked his good intentions while doing so_– her perversions. She was a pervert, but more than that she was a…a…_fraud_.

Like so many who seek to control the behavior others, Healy's plan had completely backfired. He had driven inmate Chapman directly into the waiting arm of inmate Vause. And had inmate Vause paused to reflect on that irony, she might have enjoyed it. Or she might, and this would be the wiser choice, have been afraid: afraid of the repercussions that were sure to follow. Perhaps she would have reflected on the very nature of prison culture, and determined that Healy, in his righteously indignant fury, was just a reflection of the philosophy of incarceration that had resulted in her prison sentence to begin with: teaching "lessons" through shaming and the stripping away of humanity.

But Alex wasn't amused. Alex was not afraid. And Alex was not even remotely reflective.

Alex was hot.

The last feeble protestations had drained out of Piper, who now looked up at her, tense and quiet. Nervous.

Alex liked that.

She bent her mouth to Piper's and pushed her tongue between soft lips, one hand rising to wrap fingers in long blonde hair. She held Piper there, against the back wall of this godforsaken closet in this godforsaken prison, her thigh pinned against Piper's crotch, one hand gripping her hair firmly, the other snaking roughly up the front of her shirt, and kissed her as deeply as she knew how. The warmth of Piper's mouth enflamed her, she pressed forward harder as Piper's hands, timid, rose and clasped her hips. She drove her thigh against the smaller woman, reveling in the sharp intake of breath she caused.

"Spread your legs," she growled, frustrated and angry now for reasons too complex for either of them to understand. Piper complied, shifting her feet beneath her and opening herself to Alex's leg, then pressing the weight of her body down. She shivered at the sensation, and Alex ground her hard thigh against wet cotton, leaning down again to run her tongue along Piper's bottom lip. Piper was intensely aroused, fear mingling with the animal attraction she had always felt for Alex, causing her breath to catch in her throat and her hips to grind slowly against the muscular thigh that held her in place.

Alex released her, took one small step back. Their four hands together removed Piper's pants and prison-issued underwear, Alex's hand brushed against the dampness of the cotton and her stomach tightened in response.

A small noise escaped Piper's throat as she saw Alex slowly descend before her to kneel in the tight space of the closet. Alex looked up, eyes stony and dark, and reached behind Piper's left thigh. Her hand beneath Piper's knee, she pulled the leg towards her shoulder, draping it over her back, and reached a hand up to push roughly against Piper's small, firm breast. Piper hesitated, wanted to speak, thought better of it. She watched as Alex trailed her tongue along the inside of the raised thigh, the melting softness of her mouth balanced by the rough grasp of the hands squeezing her flesh. Alex paused just above Piper's sex, lips stroking across her belly with eyes half-lidded, but still watching. Alex pressed her open mouth to Piper and forced her tongue deep into the warm opening. Her hands grasped at Piper's ass to tilt her hips forward. The blonde woman's knees weakened, her back against the wall behind her the only steadying force. She pressed a palm to the wall at her side, wrapped the fingers of the other hand in smooth black hair. She groaned syllables that weren't quite words.

"Hnnnn…" Alex licked, not gently, at Piper's wet, swollen flesh, running her tongue and lips along her folds and pausing to press back inside, drinking in the still-familiar taste. Under different circumstances, perhaps she would have remained here, bringing Piper to orgasm deftly, satisfied by the smell and taste of her. But she needed much more than that.

She stood up abruptly, kissed Piper softly, enjoying the knowledge that Piper could taste her own desire. Piper had always been turned on by her own taste on Alex's lips and tongue – Alex was not the kind of woman to forget such a detail. She grasped Piper's hips and turned her, pressing her breasts against the coolness of the wall. Piper knew what was coming, welcomed it. The feeling of this woman's hands caressing her flesh, the softness of her lips…she craved this.

Alex wrapped one long arm around Piper's waist, her lips bent to caress the delicate bones at the top of her spine. Piper pressed her hips backward, needing this, silently begging. From behind, Alex pressed three long fingers into the depths of Piper, rocking her hips backward with a powerful arm, pushing, forcing, into the softness of her body. There was little fanfare. This was not that kind of lovemaking.

Piper groaned, loudly.

"Quiet," commanded Alex, curling her fingers.

"I can't," gasped Piper. "Feels…so…fucking…good…"

"_Quiet_," ordered Alex, Piper's words rendering her own knees weak and wobbly. Goddamn, this was good. "I want to do this to you, baby." A bit more gentle. "And getting caught is really going to fuck that up for me." Drawing another groan, softer this time, from the blonde, whose palms were pressed against the wall in front of her. Alex pressed her fingers deeper, spread Piper's flesh to what she knew was that delicate precipice between pain and pleasure. Piper rocked her hips backward, hard. This was what she needed. She needed to feel. The desperation in her voice made Alex throb.

"Fuck me, Alex. Please." Quiet now. Serious. "Fuck me. You know how."

Alex did. With one arm wrapped around the blonde's narrow waist, she rocked Piper back and forth against the fingers of her other hand, those marvelous long fingers, three fingers that rubbed and caressed and reached. She pressed deeply, marveling at the tightening of Piper's body as she approached orgasm, feeling for the correct moment. It happened in an instant.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck oh god. Oh. god. Fuck." Furious whispers rocketed from Piper's mouth as she clamped down on Alex's pressing fingers. She bent against the wall, her abdomen convulsing in pleasure, and pressed back as hard as she could, wanting to take more. She came, her orgasm a rising tide of warmth that would have forced her to her knees were it not for the steadying arm around her waist. Alex's hand was unyielding, her fingers stilled but forcefully pressed into Piper's depths.

Alex bit down on her shoulder, hard. The pain was sharp, it converged with the rhythm of her orgasm like a shard of glass. She reached a hand up to tangle in Alex's hair, pleasure washed through her. It was Alex's turn to groan, a rumble that was muffled by the flesh between her teeth. She let go, caressed the bruised skin with her tongue.

Prison forbids this moment. The warmth of contact with naked skin as muscles relax after release. The caresses and murmurs of lovers amazed at the heights they have just attained. The calm after the storm.

Privacy. Love. Sex.

The thick silk of Alex's dark hair. The smooth press of breasts against Piper's back. Forbidden. Alex slipped fingers out of the wet warmth that had clutched at them violently only seconds before and turned Piper to face her again.

"We have to get dressed."

Alex pulled away, too aware that each moment in this tiny space without discovery was miraculous. She reached to the ground to retrieve clothing, helped Piper to step into her pants. They pulled on sleeves and fastened clasps. Thirty seconds of near-frantic re-assembly. Piper's legs were unsteady.

Alex began to speak. Thought better of it. She turned and reached for the door handle. A hand caught her elbow, she turned again to allow Piper to press against her for a kiss, deep and slow. Her voice low and cautious, the obvious question:

"What does this mean, Piper?"

"Jesus Alex. I don't know. I'm not going to think about that right now. I'm not going to think about anything."

The smaller woman wrapped her arms around Alex's neck, buried her face in the smell of clean laundry and cheap shampoo.

"I forgot I could come like that"

"I didn't."


End file.
